


Misadventures in Taxi Cabs

by ardentaislinn



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: AU, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-30
Updated: 2015-06-30
Packaged: 2018-04-07 00:31:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4242654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ardentaislinn/pseuds/ardentaislinn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A rainy night. A chance encounter. A...happily ever after?</p><p>                          A Fitzsimmons ‘gets into a cab only to find someone else is inside' AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	Misadventures in Taxi Cabs

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SuburbanSun](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuburbanSun/gifts).



> Happy birthday for Monday! Hope you have an amazing day full of lots of goodies. :D

The rain was driving into her, practically horizontal. The cute red umbrella she had chosen that morning to compliment her dress had become instantly useless the second she had set foot outside. Rain washed across the New York sidewalk, reflecting the neon signs around her, and wind whipped brutally at her hair and coat. She ducked her head further into the collar of her coat and brought her cute-but-useless umbrella as close to her face as possible to protect it, blocking her sight as much as the wind. 

It had not been Jemma’s day. Oh, it had started well enough. She’d woken up early, chosen an adorable outfit, and had two cups of tea before she’d walked out the hotel. She’d felt perfectly organised as her feet hit the carpet outside her room; just as she liked it. 

It was then that everything had started to go wrong. Including, but not limited to: 

  1. The car and driver she had booked not arriving and the unhelpful staff at the hotel desk that had refused to find a replacement for her at short notice.
  2. Being late to her talk at the convention - the whole reason she was even _in_ New York. 
  3. And not having any lunch because by the time she had finished her talk the buffet had been finished and cleared.



She was starving, tired, and absolutely soaked to the bone. 

Which is why when she saw the distinctive yellow of a taxi parked at the curb peeking out from under her umbrella, it felt like a gift from a very apologetic universe. She ducked her head from under the umbrella for just a second to confirm the light was on, then the strode towards it, oblivious to anything else in her determination to snag it before anyone else. 

She opened the door and slipped inside, sighing in bliss at the dry, quiet cabin. 

It was only then that she heard a sound of surprise emanating from the other side of the cab. She whipped her head around and caught sight of a young man about her age sitting as far away from her as he could in the cramped space. His face was a mix of surprise and panic. He must have entered the cab moments before her, but she’d been too distracted by the wild weather to notice. 

Jemma glanced at the cab driver, but he was no help, looking between them with a disinterestedness that couldn’t be more obvious. 

“I’ll get out,” Jemma said reluctantly. She moved her hand towards the door handle as slowly as possible, bracing herself for the unwelcome onslaught of wind and rain. 

“What...ah...what direction are you going in?” the man asked. 

“My hotel is east from here. Only about half an hour away,” she said hopefully, practically begging the universe that he was going the same way. The hotel was more like 45 minutes away in this traffic, but he didn’t need to know that. 

“Mine, too,” he said. Jemma felt her shoulders relax as a drip fell off her hair and into her lap. 

“We could share?” he said, sounding for all the world as if he expected her to refuse that offer. 

“It would only be practical to split the fare,” she said with a decisive nod. They shared a smile, their gazes catching and then skittering away from each other. 

Jemma said the name of her hotel to the driver, who nodded and pulled away from the curb. He didn’t glance back at them once. 

“I’m staying at the same hotel,” her cab-mate told her. 

“You probably found the same deal I did? On Expedia?” 

“Yes, that’s the one. It was a good deal and they had a restaurant in the hotel.” 

“Right,” replied Jemma. The two lapsed into silence. A drop of water trailed under her collar and down her spine. Jemma shivered. She was definitely going to get ill. 

“Can you put the heater up?” the man asked their driver. Jemma smiled at him gratefully as warm air began to blast against her. 

He smiled back, and Jemma noticed a number of things in quick succession: 

  1. He had very blue eyes that she had an urge to ~~stare into~~ examine further.
  2. He had a warm smile.
  3. He seemed to like looking at her.



Jemma’s smile deepened. 

She shimmied out of her wet coat, _accidentally_ brushing her hand against his shoulder as she maneouvered. She hung it on the back of the passenger seat, then leaned sideways to squeeze out some of the water from her hair. It landed harmlessly in the seatwell. 

“How did you stay so dry?” Jemma asked, turning towards him. She was closer than she had anticipated, enough to see the deep flecks in his irises. She stared for a brief moment, fascinated. 

“Er…” he said awkwardly, looking at her oddly. Jemma blinked and sat back. “My coat is of a special design,” he told her, indicating to the crumpled lump at his feet. “I made some adjustments to it. Not very stylish, but it keeps me dry.” 

“Are you are tailor?” Jemma asked. 

“An engineer,” he corrected. 

Jemma could feel her brain light up. “How marvellous! Were you at the convention just now?” 

“Yes, I did a talk this morning on possible uses of nanocarbon technologies.” He looked at his lap as he said this, almost as if was embarrassed. 

“Ah, that’s perfect! I did a paper on the importance of an interdisciplinary approach to nanocarbons earlier this year. I’ve done some work with nanoplasmonics.” 

His eyes rose slowly until they locked on hers, brightened with awe. 

“Are you Dr. Simmons?” 

Jemma nodded. 

“I’m Fitz. Leo Fitz. Now, I’m really sorry I missed your talk. I saw it on the program and intended to go, but in went through lunch, so…” he shrugged apologetically. 

Jemma laughed lightly. “It’s alright, believe me. If I’d know I wouldn’t get any lunch, I would have skipped my _own_ talk. I still haven’t eaten since this morning.” 

Fitz gave her a pitying look. “That’s awful. I have some snacks if you want some. I never leave home without them.” 

“I wouldn’t say no,” she said hesitantly. 

Fitz reached down and began digging through the pockets of his coat. He produced: 

  1. Two small packets of chips,
  2. A chocolate bar,
  3. and a bag of crushed popcorn.



“Errr, maybe not that,” he said, as he shoved it back inside an invisible pocket in his coat. 

Jemma took one of the proffered chip packets and pulled it open. She offered it to him before taking one herself. The sound of crunching was loud in the silent car. Jemma watched the city go by through the fat drops of rain on the windshield, fascinated by both the differences and similarities to London. In some ways it almost reminded her of home, and in others it was like they were different worlds entirely. 

“So, how did your talk go in the end?” Fitz asked as they took turns reaching into the chip packet. 

“Terrible,” she told him with a groan. All her frustrations from earlier in the day roared back again. 

“What happened?” 

“Well, to start with I was very hungry. And I think everyone else that was there was, too, because they weren’t paying any attention. That’s the one’s that _did_ show up, of which there weren’t many.” 

“I’m sorry,” FItz said, his voice sounding genuinely sympathetic. 

“It’s alright. I mean, intellectually I understand why. It’s just so frustrating when you prepare so much and then it all feels so pointless. And I was so hungry, which didn’t help my emotional state. Unfortunately it all started reminding me of my early years, when no one would come to my talks and take me seriously because of my age. Or gender. I never figured out which.” 

Jemma took a deep breath, feeling a knot in her chest she hadn’t even know was there loosen after unloading that. 

“If I know anything about our peers, I would say it’s both.” 

Jemma made a face acknowledging those failings of the scientific community. “You’re probably right.” Jemma sighed. 

“I was forced to do a lot of talks as a teen. People still showed up, but none of them expected much. They still hailed me as a boy genius prodigy. But after I failed at public speaking so badly, they decided it was better just to stick me in a lab.” 

“Now that I’ve built a name for myself it usually never happens. It just brought back memories and I was feeling frazzled and vulnerable to begin with.” 

“Well, I’m sure your talk was terrific. I’m really sorry I missed it.” 

Jemma made a face. “I wouldn’t think bio-medical science would interest you.” 

“Many of the best engineering advances have been in the medical field. It’s fascinating.” 

Jemma wasn’t sure exactly how much he believed that, but she smiled warmly, appreciating the sentiment just the same. 

“I have a paper being published on the same topic, soon. I can send you a copy when I have one, if you’d like?” 

Fitz’s eyes lit up. “I’d love that.” 

They lapsed into a brief silence, but Jemma was too curious to stop talking for long. 

“So, you clearly don’t like public speaking. How did your talk go?” 

Fitz let out a long suffering sigh. “I kept it as short as possible. It’s part of my contract to do these things.” 

“Back in London, I lecture but also have funding for my studies. Best of both worlds.” He gave her a disbelieving look and she laughed. “I don’t mind the students,” she told him. 

“They are awful. Even worse than when I was one of them. I have to guest lecture and fill in a few times a year as well as do these talks. Absolute bloody nightmare.” 

Jemma grinned. “Where’s home for you? 

“London, like you. I moved there from Glasgow when I was offered a research position.” 

“Do you like it?” 

He shrugged. “It’s alright. But it’s not home.” 

Jemma laughed. “I know what you mean. I don’t mind the trips. I like adventures. But I’m always happy to get home again. I go home every few months to see my parents.” 

“That’s great that you make the time. It’s just my Mum, these days, but I see her when I can. I don’t really like to travel, though. They had to make me come for this conference. I don’t leave home if I can help it,” he told her with exaggerated self-deprecation. 

Jemma laughed again, feeling lighter and more free than she had in some time. It was the perfect antidote to her stressful day. 

“What do you think of New York?” Fitz asked, his voice soft. She could feel his eyes on her. Her gaze rose to rest lightly on his. A spell of intimacy wove between them in the quiet, dark backseat of the cab. 

Fitz cleared his throat as he waited for her answer. 

“I like it, but I couldn’t live here,” she told him. 

“I agree. Far too confusing. My first morning here I tried to catch the subway and ended up somewhere near Long Island.” 

“I thought the Tube was bad. But I took one look at that map and knew I would get lost.” 

They grinned in shared understanding. 

The cab driver turned a corner and Jemma’s soaking wet umbrella collided with her bare legs. She shivered again. 

“Do you want my coat?” Fitz asked. 

“Is it dry? Mine’s wet through.” 

“Always,” Fitz said mysteriously. He offered her the coat and Jemma grasped it hesitantly. It _seemed_ like a normal coat. 

She slipped it on and was instantly cocooned in warmth. Her eyes fluttered shut and a blissful sigh escaped her. “This is incredible. You must make me one of these.” 

“It would be my pleasure.” His voice was unexpectedly low. Jemma cracked an eye to peer at him. When she saw the heated expression in his gaze, it occurred to her the picture she must make. Her head thrown back with pleasure, wrapped in his clothes, and expression near to ecstasy written across her face. 

“Thank you,” she whispered. 

He didn’t say anything, just blinked and looked away, hiding his face. But it was too late. She’d seen the hot yearning in his eyes. 

Jemma was just considering her next move when three things happened in quick succession: 

  1. The cab turned the corner a little too fast and slid on the wet road, fishtailing at the rear.
  2. The driver overcompensated and the back of the car spun out the other way, clipping a parked car as it slipped past. 
  3. A crack sounded and the car jumped violently, eventually skidding to a stop.



Jemma took a deep breath, trying to calm her thunderous heartbeat and reorder her chaotic mind. Jemma heard the cab driver open his door to get out and then swear ferociously. The car rocked slightly as he evidently kicked the tire. 

“Are you OK?” came Fitz’s voice from beside her. Jemma cracked her eyes open and looked towards him, managing a nod. 

“You?” she asked. 

“Yeah.” 

They were silent for a moment, their harsh breaths loud in the small space. 

The cab driver threw his door open and peeked his head inside, dripping across the front seat. 

“I have to wait and report this. You should get another cab to take you the rest of the way.” 

They both nodded and reached for their doors. The cab driver grabbed Fitz’s arm, stopping him. “Not until you pay,” he told them. 

Fitz reached for his wallet with a sigh, but Jemma was indignant. “But you haven’t gotten us to our destination. That’s the deal. We shouldn’t have to pay due to the inconvenience, anyway.” 

The cab driver’s eyes narrowed. “Doesn’t work that way, sweetheart. You are welcome to wait for the police with me, but no promises how long it will be or whether the car will be declared fit to drive. It’s up to you.” 

Jemma glared at him. She could feel Fitz watching her, letting her make the call. 

“We’ll pay half,” she said eventually. “Your machine is broken, anyway.” 

The cab driver looked down to see the flashing red of the display. He made a sound of frustration at the sight. 

“I could fi-” Fitz began, but Jemma slipped her hand into his and squeezed to shut him up. 

“Fine,” the cabbie spat. “Give me twenty dollars and I’ll let you go.” 

Jemma smiled, feeling a little smug, and released Fitz’s hand to dig into her purse. Fitz got there before she could, holding out a twenty. The cab driver grunted and snatched it out of his hands, dismissing them. 

Jemma grabbed her things, but hesitated before opening the door. 

“Do you want your coat back?” 

Fitz shook his head. “Keep it.” 

Jemma shimmied out of the car and made a run for the nearest doorway to shelter in. Between Fitz’s coat, which had a hood she hadn’t noticed, and her umbrella, Jemma managed to stay almost perfectly dry. Fitz, on the other hand, as he slumped against the wall next to her, was soaked through. Jemma watched in the low light as a drip trailed from his hair, down his cheek and neck, before disappearing into the collar of his jumper. 

“So, we have two options. 

  1. We flag down a new cab and -”



“There’s a bar over there,” Fitz interrupted. He pointed to a glowing neon sign two doors down before wrapping his arms around himself and shivering. “We could wait in there for the rain to clear. I think we are only a few blocks away from the hotel. We could walk back there once we’ve dried off.” 

“Brilliant idea,” Jemma said with a smile. 

He shared her smile and ducked out of the overhang. Fitz strode forward and Jemma hurried to catch up, holding the umbrella above both their heads. She’d never been so grateful for her male companion not being tall. Nothing worse than a height difference when umbrellas were involved. 

The pub was warm and dry. Jemma could practically see the rain evaporating off them as they found their way to a booth at the back. The pub was almost entirely empty. Only a few seats were taken by men that looked like they had carved their places in those stools long ago. Apparently no one else had braved the weather. 

The light was dingy, and Jemma surmised it was to disguise the unwashed floor that she could feel sticking to the soles of her shoes. 

It reminded her so much of home and the pubs she had spent so many hours in during her later university days. Happy, nostalgic memories washed over her. 

They sat down, and a bored looking waitress ambled over. They both ordered - drinks and enough food to feed five Jemma’s on a normal day - and the young woman wandered in the direction of the kitchens. 

“I’ll pay for your first drink,” Jemma insisted. 

“There’s no need.” 

“Sure there is. You let me take half your cab and then you paid for it.” 

Fitz shrugged. “I’m glad you’re here. I don’t think this would be remotely as fun without you.” 

Jemma felt heat creep into her cheeks at the sincerity of his words. “I feel the same,” she said with all the significance she could muster. 

A plan began to develop in her mind. Three drinks, four meals, countless stimulating conversation topics, and two hours later, Jemma began to think it was the best one she’d ever had. 

“I think the rain has stopped. Should we start making our way back to the hotel?” 

Fitz blinked, looking slightly despondent. “Oh, yeah, sure. Of course. You must be tired. We should get you back.” 

They gathered their things and paid. When they were standing out on the street, Jemma handed Fitz his coat and shrugged into her own. 

“You can keep it on, if you like,” he said a little shyly. 

“My coat is dry now. It should suffice. But thank you so much.” 

Fitz nodded, looking a little downcast, and they started off in the direction they assumed the hotel was in. Jemma made sure to stay close to him, ‘accidentally’ brushing her hand against his as they walked. He didn’t take the hint, but Jemma didn’t mind. Her plan had many more stages in it. 

They did eventually reach the hotel, after taking only two wrong turns. It started raining just as it came into view, and they both made a run for it, laughing all the while. 

They reached the elevator, panting with laughter. 

“What floor?” Fitz asked, reaching for the buttons. 

“Sixteen,” Jemma told him. He pressed the number for both her floor and eighteen, meaning that she had sixteen floors to get her plan in motion. 

“I guess this is where we say goodbye,” Fitz said. His eyes flickered between her face and his hands, and his voice hinted at his disappointment. 

Jemma took a deep breath, glad for the perfect opening. “It doesn’t have to,” she whispered. 

Fitz coughed. “Sorry?” 

“I mean, if you want, you could come back to my room.” 

“Yeah?” he asked, voice almost squeaking. Jemma grinned, glad he hadn’t mistaken her meaning. She sidled closer. 

“Yeah.” She took his hand, and the two smiled silently in anticipation as they waited to reach their floor. Jemma’s stomach clenched excitedly as the elevator dinged. She led him to her door, desire building within her with every step. 

Then, the door was open and they stepped inside. For one brief moment neither of them seemed to know where to start. But then suddenly they were kissing and Jemma smiled against his lips. 

Her plan was coming to fruition. 

\--- 

Six months later, Jemma woke in their shared apartment, surprised to find Fitz wasn’t next to her. She couldn’t remember the last time he’d arisen before her. Jemma was halfway to thinking something was wrong when the door opened silently and Fitz slipped inside. 

“Good morning,” she said sleepily. Fitz turned to her and grinned. 

“Good morning. And happy six month anniversary.” 

Jemma blinked. “Is that today? Goodness, time flies. Happy anniversary, darling.” 

He kissed her gently on the mouth, and Jemma tried to tempt him back into bed with her. Fitz broke away. 

“None of that, today. We’ve got plans.” 

Jemma frowned. “I don’t remember arranging anything.” 

“You didn’t,” he said smugly. It took Jemma a second to realise what he meant. 

“What have you arranged?” 

“It’s a surprise,” he told her with exaggerated mystery. Jemma grinned. She was still learning new things about him everyday. 

“Just let me shower.” She threw back the quilt and got ready with as much speed and care as she could manage. 

When she declared herself ready, Fitz led her to their front door and threw it open. Outside was sitting an actual New York taxi cab. 

“What on _Earth_?” 

“Oh, crap. I should have known this was a stupid idea. I’ll just-” 

Jemma interrupted him with a kiss. “You are such a romantic, Leopold Fitz.” 

Fitz cleared his throat, looking abashed. “It’s not a real taxi. I got Mack down at the garage to make up an old car like one. I thought we could go on a picnic. ” 

“That sounds wonderful.” Fitz sighed in relief. 

They slid into the car and Fitz eased away from the curb. “It feels weird, driving in London.” 

Jemma laughed. “This was such a lovely idea.” 

Fitz nodded non-committally, and Jemma wondered what he was thinking about. Despite the warm summer day, there were surprisingly few people out and about in their suburban part of London. Twenty minutes later, they found themselves in a carpark next to an empty park, shielded from the road by a stand of trees and bushes. 

Jemma reached for the handle, but Fitz stopped her. 

“Just wait a moment.” He dug something out of his pocket. It was a red box, luminous and a very suspicious size. Jemma’s heart started pattering in her chest and her breath came in short bursts. 

Fitz stared at it for a long moment. Then, he offered her the box - unopened, just tried to hand it to her - and looked at her nervously. Jemma hesitated a moment before reaching for it, unsure what he was expecting. Fitz obviously took that as a bad sign and snatched it back. 

“It’s too soon, isn’t it? Crap. I was going to wait a year, but the weather is better in summer. I didn’t want to do a picnic in the rain. And I just didn’t want to wait so I-” 

“Fitz! I haven’t said no. You haven’t even asked the question yet.” 

Fitz stopped, considering. Then, clearing his throat, he slowly opened the box. Inside was an exquisite ring that Jemma suspected was hand crafted with an awful lot of love. 

“The box is red because I always associate red with you. Because of the umbrella you had that day. It was the first thing I saw of you. And the ring is gold because you were wearing a yellow-gold kind of dress.” 

Tears sprang to Jemma’s eyes at the thought and planning that had gone into this. She was utterly incapable of speech, but Fitz apparently hadn’t noticed. 

“I fell in love with you that night. I am still falling for you every day, and will for the rest of my life. If you’ll let me, that is. So would you please consider letting me spend the rest of my life with you and consent to be my wife?” 

Jemma took a deep, shuddering breath. Fitz was staring at her like he honestly thought she might refuse, so Jemma choked out the words as soon as she could to put him out of his misery. 

“Of _course_.” She launched into his arms, her tears of joy leaking onto his shoulder as he held her tightly. He released a relieved breath, letting out a little laugh as he turned his head to kiss her neck. She pulled back just far enough to cup his face and began peppering his cheeks and mouth with tiny kisses. 

“I love you,” she whispered. 

“It could never be as much as I love you,” he replied, returning her kiss. 

She stopped for a moment, staring into his eyes. “I will spend the rest of my life proving you wrong about that.” 

“I can’t wait to see you try,” he whispered back. 

They both leaned forward again, their lips meeting more gently this time. 

And Jemma knew one thing: 

  1. She was completely, unutterably happy.




End file.
